Page 284 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

A strange bolt of heat travels through me when Player 4’s hands lower, a thick fingertip grazing the edge of my ass.

It is getting worse, and ire slinks through me.

Before he or the other Evots can do any true damage, my knee slams into his dick.

“Fuck!” He doubles over, cupping his crotch protectively. “Fuck, baby. There are other more enjoyable ways to touch my cock, you know?” he wheezes.

Other ways? Yes. More enjoyable? No.

Dismissing him, I face the group as a whole. “One by one, you are going to go into the Simulation Hexagon,” I start, leaving no room for argument, and they all listen intently like the good boys they should be when I am around. “On Level Expert.”

The horror that drenches their faces is comical.

Apart from Player 4’s.

“I can do that,” he agrees easily.

“I can’t!” Player 35 exclaims with a whiny note to his voice. “I can do Advanced for a while, but Expert is for higher 80s! My Score is only 82!”

“I think this is the first time you’re saying that without boasting,” his brother mutters beneath his breath.

“Expert. Five minutes. I need to see exactly how skilled you are. Be grateful I do not throw you in Master. That will come later, however.”

They gape at me.

“We’ve left our helmets in one of the private rooms,” Player 38 sighs.

“Better go get them, then. When you get back, you are up first.”

21

COOPER

She’s trying to kill us.

I know it, and so do the others.

Luckily, the Simulation Hexagon ensures the AI men can’t do any real damage, so other than some painful bruising, we’re all okay. However, I do not appreciate being made to fight two levels above my usual. Advanced I could have done with effort and concentration, but Expert? That’s just taking the piss.

I think back on the session with a grimace:

Alby being thrown from one end of the Hexagon to the other with a cry.

Scotty somehow maintaining his upright position while receiving as many hits as he’s giving.

Tiger being knocked to the ground and giving up at once with a cry for Ezla to “please save him!” as he rolls around on the taalk more like a kid would in snow than anything.

Ezla watching impassively with her arms folded over her chest, offering absolutely no input whatsoever.

So, yes. There’s no doubt in my mind that she wants us dead. She can call it “studying our fighting styles and techniques” all she wants, but that was pure torture.

Alby is the most banged up, and although I can’t see it with his Avri suit covering every inch of him, I can tell from the way he winces as he walks and how Tiger has a steadying arm around him and a concerned pout on his face. To give him credit, he stayed in the Hexagon the full five minutes without complaint, even though he looked close to bawling.

Poor guy.

Tate, of course, is smug as can be as he walks along with us to our Bonded washroom; he seemed to get through the level with only minor difficulty and has a maximum of one bruise beneath his own suit. His mood’s likely also so chipper since Ezla gave him a slight nod of approval for his performance, and he took that like it was the best praise he’s ever received.

Then again, with how Ezla is, that is high praise.